


Shifted Existance

by dracos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracos/pseuds/dracos
Summary: Feeling unsteady, he spoke to the witch beside him in the strongest voice he could muster. “There’s been a huge mistake, Professor. I don’t belong in Slytherin.”“The Sorting Hat has never been wrong, Mr Weasley,”





	Shifted Existance

**Author's Note:**

> This is neither fully canon to the books or films! It's a mashup of both, so if that bothers you be warned.

“Weasley, Ronald!”

 _Finally_ , thought Ron as his name was called out by the ageing witch. Having a name beginning with W was more of an inconvenience than people thought. Especially today, where he felt like he’d been waiting hours for the strict Scottish witch to get through the alphabet.

Despite his nerves, Ron was pretty confident he would end up in Gryffindor. His whole family had been in it, so it only made sense he would be too. Okay, maybe Fred and George had teased him about ending up in another house, but that wouldn't happen. It wouldn't. They were only joking, mum had insisted so as he sniffled about it, cuddled up in a hug. Despite her comforting words, he couldn’t help the strong sense of apprehension as he walked over to the stool.

Plus, the Harry Potter had just been put into Gryffindor and they had just been getting on well on the train. He was destined to end up in a red and gold dorm with the Boy Who Lived. He could see it now, him and the famous Harry Potter having a bed next to each other, being popular, liked, going on adventures together. It sounded perfect.

As he reached the seat, he took one last look around the hall. A sea of blue, yellow, red and green submerged him and the many keen faces of the students gleamed like a beacon in the pool of dark robes. He scanned Gryffindor table for his brothers, expecting their grinning faces to be encouraging him on. Instead, they weren't even looking in his direction, they surrounded Harry Potter, whispering and laughing with him, not one glance to see how he, their youngest brother, was doing.

Anger and bitterness burned in his chest and he whipped his head around quickly, dropping down onto the stool with a thump, not daring to look up again.

Just get it over with, he thought.

The greying witch placed the raggedy hat on his head and stood back, waiting.

_‘Ah, another Weasley.’_

Ron almost jumped up from the seat as he heard a smooth voice talk. He hadn't seen anyone move their mouth and it couldn't be the -

_‘Let's have a look inside your head, hm? There's all the usual bravery and loyalty, but what’s this? A certain disregard for the rules, cunning...oh my.’_

Ron looked around the hall in fear, wondering if they could hear the voice too. The old lady who’d placed the hat gave him no clues as he peered at her from under the floppy rim, silently questioning.

_‘With a bit of ambition, you could do great things, Weasley. I think I know precisely where to put you…’_

“Slytherin!”

The room went silent and cold, it was as if one of those dementors his dad had told him about had entered. Everyone was shocked, he must be the first Weasley to not be in Gryffindor for centuries - let alone the first Slytherin. Even his brothers looked up in shock.

Feeling unsteady, he spoke to the witch beside him in the strongest voice he could muster. “There’s been a huge mistake, Professor. I don’t belong in Slytherin.”

“The Sorting Hat has never been wrong, Mr Weasley,” she said in her strong Scottish accent as she removed the thing in question.

“But…” All objections died as she shot him a deadly look, ushering him to take his place at the Slytherin table.

Full of dread and confusion, Ron slowly made his way there, his trepidation only increasing as he saw the many frowning faces of his new housemates. Unfortunately, the closest seat was next to the snarky blonde boy, Dracko or something, who had made fun him earlier. He hoped his expression showed he wasn't in the mood to put up with anymore jibes today. He was seconds away from breaking down in front of his new house members as it was.

His legs felt heavy as he dragged them over to the table and sat down, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline.

The blonde cocked his head suspiciously, giving Ron a long, critical stare.  
“What?” Ron snapped, irritated by the boy already.

“I said earlier about your family being the wrong sort,” he started, a haughty smirk spreading across his lips. “But you might have some potential.”

Ron took one last look at where his brothers were sitting, now apparently recovered from the blow, still enraptured by the famous Harry Potter. Maybe the Sorting Hat was right, maybe this was where he really belonged. It was a strange thought but the more he considered it the more he realised it could be true. He had never truly been apart of that family, not in the same way Ginny or Bill had. He had never really felt right there.

Turning back to the other boy, a similar grin overtook his face. Holding out his hand, he said, “You just might too.”

~~~

He found quickly that his new friend liked to talk, specifically about himself. Ron didn’t mind, he had always been a good listener and knew to reply when necessary. Draco became so animated when talking, waving his arms about and eyes wide and alight with excitement. Despite not all of his babbling being interesting, it was certainly fun to watch him be so enthusiastic about everything he talked about.

Even on their way to their dorms he didn’t quiet down, his sole focus on Ron and their conversation. No one had ever paid that much attention to him.

“Father says the Slytherin dorms are the best part of the school, not that that's saying much, we can see straight into the Lake from our windows - he said we might even see merpeople! I’m getting a bed by the windows just in case, you’ll have the bed next to me, of course…”

Ron failed to listen to any more of Draco’s speech, too thrilled by the boy’s casual assumption of Ron’s friendship. A warm feeling spread through him, he finally felt wanted. Truly wanted. From someone other than his mum!

“Who says I don't want the bed by the window, huh?” Ron said teasingly.

Draco glared challengingly back at him.

“I’m having. The bed. By the window.” The blonde punctuated.

They both stood, staring daringly at each other before legging it to the dormitories they had just been directed to.

It was a fierce battle but Draco won out (Ron may have let him, but he wasn't telling the blonde that). After one more playful shove, Draco collapsed back onto his newly appointed bed, sighing in contentment.

“Off to bed with you, Weasley, I’ll introduce you to everyone tomorrow, I know most of them already,” Draco said with a yawn.

“Night then, Malfoy,” he called.

Draco gave a small wave and tugged the curtains around himself. Following suit, Ron did the same, undressed and got into bed, soon hearing his other roommates shuffle into the room and settle down as well.

It took him awhile to get to sleep, taking in everything that had happened today. He’d have to send a letter to his parents if one of his brothers hadn't already. What could he say, though? ‘Sorry I've let you down again?’

Deciding it could wait, for now, Ron let sleep overtake him, lulled by the gentle noises of the lake outside their windows.

~~~

“Draco, wake up!” Ron cried, shaking his friend awake. “It’s Christmas!”

Despite his friend seemingly being fast asleep, at the word ‘Christmas’ his eyes shot open. Faster than Ron would've thought possible for someone who had just woken up, Draco jumped up and ran to the large pile of packages in the middle of the dorm room.

Rushing after him, Ron laughed at the sound of the blonde's giggles and squeals of “Presents!”

Giving himself carpet burn, the redhead slid halfway across the room on his knees in his excitement to get to Draco, his skin burning in protest. In his joy, he didn’t even notice.

“Ron, Draco, Draco, Gregory, Draco…” The blonde mumbled to himself, organising the presents.

Heaps of presents sat under a large fir tree, although they had all already been charmed so that they couldn't be tampered with. After a nasty incident with some Ravenclaw roommates, the house elves knew better than to leave presents defenceless.

Ron heard some of the other boys stir as he ripped open his first present.

“Maroon again? Mum…”

Complaints aside, Ron tugged his new jumper on, the golden ‘R’ shining proudly.

“Your mother made that for you? Herself?”

Ron tensed, fearing Draco would mock him for having to make clothes instead of buying brand new ones.

“Um, yeah…” he mumbled.

“Wow,” the blonde breathed. “My mother would never do anything like that! She's never made anything for me.”

Ron gave him a sad look. “Oh, um...”

Shaking his head, Draco interrupted him.

“It looks professional, your mother must be quite talented.” Draco’s voice was strained, either from emotion or the pain of giving a Weasley a genuine compliment.

“Well, she does make one for us every year so…”

“Even if you do look like a right dork.” Draco teased, smirking.

Ron gave a fake gasp. “I’ll have you know, I am, in fact, the coolest. Everyone who's anyone has one of these jumpers.”

Draco mock glared. “So, where's mine then? I’m obviously the coolest one here.”

“You’re obviously not since you don't have one…”

In the middle of their pretend squabble, their other roommates had begun unwrapping their presents.

“Shut up and have a sweet,” Gregory grunted, throwing a Fizzing Whizbee at Ron’s head, almost hitting him in the eye.

Following orders, he did as he was told, popping the sweet into his mouth and opening his other present.

“Ugh, my father got me a calligraphy set again, ” Draco moaned. “I have enough bloody quills to last me the rest of Hogwarts!”

Ron and the other boys snickered.

“Want some fudge?” The redhead offered in consolidation.

“Mm, yes, please,” Blaise said, snatching bit before Ron could stop him.

“Hey!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Weasley. Have my Peppermint Toads. Mother only gives them to me because she doesn't know what to get me. I don’t have the heart to tell her I don’t like them.”

Ron accepts them gladly, letting the others take some too.

“Ron…” Draco said slowly. “Is that all your presents?”

Ron’s cheeks flamed red. “Y-yeah. There's a lot of us so we can't get much.”

The redhead stared at the floor, wishing he could fall through it.

Silently, Draco gave him his half unwrapped package of Sugar Quills.

“Draco, I don’t want some pity gift,” Ron said lowly.

“It’s not. I can't eat them all by myself,” Draco shrugged, his face impassive.

Giving the blonde one hard stare, Ron finally accepted the present.

“I’m still having plenty, duh, I’m not that generous.”

“The fact you call yourself generous is being generous,” Blaise muttered.

Draco threw a used bit of wrapping paper at him eliciting laughter from the others.

Throughout the day, Ron felt everyone was uncharacteristically kind to him. Attempting to be subtle by gruffly offering him chocolate and turns on their expensive presents. He knew this was likely due to pity and despite the anger that burnt his pride, he tried to ignore it and convince himself that they were probably just in the Christmas spirit.

Even so, it was nice not be taunted for his family's lack of money, especially since that was what he’d been expecting. And, besides, how could he turn down a Chocolate Frog?

~~~

Days drifted into weeks and Draco and Ron became fast friends. They were basically conjoined at the hip and went everywhere together, often teasing Potter and his nerdy friend, Granger, whenever they could.

His parents had been shocked but supportive enough about his sorting but much less so about the company he had found himself with. Ron hadn't been the one to tell them his first best friend was Draco Malfoy, Fred and George, the prats, had that honour and were quick to inform them about him.

Sure, Draco went a bit far with his insults sometimes, and that trick to get the Golden Duo caught outside of curfew was pretty cruel (but bloody hilarious) but he wasn't that bad. The blonde was witty and smart and when he focussed on a person he made them feel like they were the centre of his universe. How could Ron resist the bugger when he made him feel so wanted?

By the end of the year, Ron and Draco’s resentment of the Golden Duo only increased, especially after their little stunt of ‘saving the world’ or whatever from Quirrell aka You-Know-Who cost Slytherin the house cup.

“We get it, Dumbledore, Potter’s been blessed with bravery and pure dumb luck, let's get on with the feast already.”

Ron snickered at Draco’s mutterings as best he could with the disappointment of losing laying heavy on him.

“I think we were going a bit easy on them this year,” Ron said decidedly. “They better look out next year, though.”

Draco smirked at him in a way that said he was more than on board with Ron’s plans.

Their scheming was interrupted by plates full of food appearing in front of them and after the permission of Dumbledore they dug in.

“Are you doing anything for the holidays, Ron?” Draco asked while precariously transferring some potatoes onto his plate.

“Nah, mum will probably just get us doing chores or something all summer.”

“I always forget that you don't have a house elf. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd want to come over to mine at any point?”

Ron’s heart swelled. Draco rarely asked for something, it was usually demanded, but when he did it often meant he was nervous. Was he worried about Ron rejecting his offer?

“Oh well, I don't know if it'll be up to my standard,” Ron said, impersonating Draco’s posh accent. “You see, I just stayed over at the Minister’s house the other week, his collection of bowler hats is divine, by the way-”

Ron was cut off by the blonde's loud laughter, a sound he always revelled in causing, and an elbow in his side.

“Jokes aside, ‘course I’d want to. Would your parents be okay with it?”

Laughter now subsided, Draco considered his question.

“Well, they know I’m friends with you so they shouldn't be too surprised. After they get to know you they'll see how much better you are than the rest of your family so there shouldn't be a problem.”

Ron felt a pang of guilt at his family being insulted, as he did every time Draco made a comment on them, but these twinges got smaller at each remark.

“I'd have to stay at home for a bit, though, or mum will moan about how she ‘never sees me’ or ‘I gave up remembering your name after you hit 5’,” Ron said, making air quotes with his fingers.

Another set of giggles between the both of them erupted, although it died down faster.

“But you’ll come?” Draco asked, his voice unusually small and insecure sounding.

“I promise.”

~SECOND YEAR~

By their second year, they were rarely separate from each other, aside from the few weeks in the holidays when Ron spent with his family.

Draco had helped his confidence grow beyond anything he thought capable. Being around someone so cocky can rub off on a person, especially when said person is in serious need of a confidence boost. It wasn’t so much what Draco said to him but how he treated him. He was so picky about his company so to be chosen as his friend was an honour. Or at least Draco acted like it was.

Because of his newfound self-assurance, when Draco suggested they join the Quidditch team he was feeling surprisingly sure of himself and his ability.

“I’m trying out for the seeker position, like my father, and I’m sure I’ll get it. I think you’d be a good... chaser? Oh, or keeper. Maybe beater?”

“So, I’m allowed to try out for anything but seeker, then?” Ron smiled at his friend’s habit of babbling.

“I suppose I’ll give you permission,” Draco teased. “Though after the brooms father gave the team, I doubt I’ll even need to try out.”

Ron frowned slightly.

“Isn't that kinda unfair, though?”

Draco shrugged.

“Father insisted.”

~~~

“You’ll be next mudbloods!”

Ron wasn't above a personal insult or even a slur, here and there, but anyone who had been brought up in the wizarding world knew you just didn't say that word.

The reaction was clear among the pure and half bloods, everyone went silent. There was plenty of staring, some in awe and some in disgust but not one eye looked away from him or Malfoy, besides Miss Norris’ petrified beady ones.

They couldn't gaze for long, though, as the teachers came rushing towards them the students obediently parting around them to let them through.

The conversation then went as usual. Potter, though the evidence was strongly stacked against him, was dismissed as innocent, as well as his furry sidekick, Granger. What surprised Ron, however, was Snape’s, admittedly weak, defence of Potter. What's the point of having a biased teacher if he isn't prejudiced when it counts?

~~~

They’d both managed to make the team. Ron wasn't surprised Draco had, they’d played against each other before and Ron found that he was actually pretty good, even if he had swindled his way onto the team with those latest broom models. He was more shocked about himself. His siblings had always ribbed him about his Quidditch skills, they were never as good as theirs and they didn't let him forget it. While they never said anything too harsh, their comments added up and he had been made unsure of himself.

As the Quidditch teams walked onto the field for their first game, Draco gave him a supportive wink before snapping his head around and glaring at their opponents. Ron followed suit, trying to calm his nerves the best he could.

Once the whistle was blown the game went by in a blur. He’d managed to score two goals as a chaser and despite the fact a bludger may have broken his arm as it careened into him, he couldn't keep his smile down.

That was until a body flew through the air. He could recognise that blonde hair anywhere.

His initial instinct to go to him was stopped by Marcus Flint’s glaring face.

“He’ll be fine. Focus on the game.”

He shot one last concerned look at Draco before dodging the bludger screaming towards him. Gregory was hovering in front of him and he glared accusingly but the Beater just shrugged in reply.

Looking around he noticed said bludger wasn't flying around randomly anymore, it was closely following Potter. Despite what had just happened to his friend, Ron couldn't help but grin.

The rest of the game went as you’d expect: Potter almost got hit (but unfortunately didn't) by the bludger but somehow still managed to get the snitch and win the game. Ron couldn’t help but feel the ending ruined the fun for him, and no doubt the rest of his team too, but it did make him more determined to win next time. Fairly or unfairly.

~~~

After the game found him and Draco in the hospital wing, along with a few other players.

“How's your arm?” Draco croaked, more exaggeratedly than necessary.

“My arm? You full-on crashed, how are you?”

The blonde looked down pitifully.

“Pomfrey says I’ll live but...everywhere hurts,” he winced.

“Yeah, alright. Save it for your letter to your parents, drama queen,” Ron baited.

“Hey! I am actually in pain, you know,” Draco sulked.

“I know, I’m sorry. Move up will you?” Draco complied and Ron manoeuvred himself the best he could with his arm in a sling.

“Did Pomfrey say when your arm will be better?”

“Sometime next week, with the potion she’s got me on.”

They were silent for a moment, both exhausted from their earlier game.

“Bloody Potter, though-”

Draco burst to life with a loud groan, his previous tiredness forgotten for now.

“Don't even get me started,” he began. “He still manages to catch the snitch even though a rogue bludger is chasing him? As if. It was some scheme to get attention, I just know it. And did you see how he made me crash? How that wasn't considered cheating I have no idea…”

Ron let his friend prattle on, too weary from the excitement of the game and effects of the medication to fully listen to what he was saying. Surely Draco wouldn't notice if he closed his eyes for just a moment…

“...but what Lockhart did to his arm! That’ll make me laugh for - oh!”

Ron vaguely felt his head hit something warm and Draco make a soft sound but he couldn't fully register what was happening, instead, he decided to let sleep overtake him. He could deal with Draco's complaints tomorrow.

~~~

Their second year passed as quickly as the first. Besides one of the Patil girls opening the Chamber of Secrets and Potter saving the world yet again, nothing much had happened to him and Draco. He’d had an odd moment when he’d woken up in a broom cupboard partially on top of Gregory with two half-eaten cupcakes squashed by them but that was as exciting as it had gotten.

Now found him and Draco discussing this year's events, playing chess at Malfoy Manor, mainly moaning about Potter, as usual.

“I mean, I don't know who he thinks he is, freeing our house elf!

“He’s probably just jealous,” Ron murmured distractedly, making his next move. “He doesn't have one, does he?”

Draco’s face scrunched up as Ron took his knight.

“I don't think so but still.”

Draco paused to decide his next move, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Just as the blonde was about to move his rook, a knock on Draco’s door sounded and his father walked in.

“Sorry to disturb you, boys, but I wanted to talk to Ronald for a moment.”

“Can it wait?” Draco pouted.

“Yeah, I don't trust him with the board alone,” Ron grinned.

Draco gave him a kick under the table but it lacked any real force.

Lucius gave a small smile at their banter.

“Alright, finish your game. Come see me in my office when you're done,” he said as he left the room.

“Ugh, he left the door open,” Draco glared at it as if his stare alone could shut the door. “He does it on purpose to annoy me.”

As Draco got up to shut it, Ron asked, “Why do you think he wants to see me?”

The blonde shrugged before sitting back down and making his move.

“It won't be anything bad, I’m sure, he seemed in a good mood.”

His words didn't help much and Ron tried to keep his mind on the game but couldn't help the anxiety from diverting his attention.

~~~

“Aha! Checkmate,” Draco cried triumphantly.

“Bugger,” Ron muttered. “That was a one-off.”

Draco smirked. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Not rising to his friend’s bait, Ron got up.

“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

“Okay,” Draco said, still basking in his win. “I’ll get a house elf to show you where to go.”

As if it could hear him, one appeared.

“Sooty, show Ron to my father’s office.”

The elf bowed so deeply its ears touched the ground. “Of course, master.”

House-elf apparition felt scarcely better than a wizard’s but it seemed much quicker, so Ron was able to keep his food down with a few deep breaths.

Once he was ready, he gave the foreboding wooden door a timid knock, almost jumping when a deep voice telling him to ‘enter’.

Lucius was sitting casually in his desk chair when Ron went into the room. The room was as extravagant as the rest of the house, a fire blazing and what Ron guessed were a large variety of expensive liquor.

“Sit down, Ronald. You aren't in trouble, don't worry.”

Doing as instructed, Ron perched tensely on the chair opposite Lucius.

“When Draco informed us of your friendship I was… apprehensive, to say the least. However, now I’ve seen how much you’ve benefited him.”

At Ron’s confused look he explained further.

“Draco's never had an especially close friend and Narcissa and I have been worried that he's been lonely. You’ve been a wonderful influence, already he’s seemed… happier.”

Taking a sip of his drink, he continued.

“The point of this conversation is mostly just to thank you, you’ve helped Draco more than you know.” Lucius shot him a half smile. Ron had learnt that was about as smiley as he got.

“Oh, well thank you, sir!” Ron said, incredibly surprised by the topic. “He’s really...we’re good - I’m grateful I’m his friend too.”

Lucius gave him a satisfied nod, “Thank you for listening, you may rejoin Draco now.”

Ron gave an awkward half-bow, still slightly on edge and unsure of how to act around the man, and hurried back to the bedroom.

~~~

When Ron returned back Draco was sprawled out on his bed. He lazy demeanour changed once Ron entered the room, sitting up quickly with a look of curiosity taking over his face.

“So, what did he say?”

Ron collapsed next to Draco, tired from the nervousness.

“Just something about being glad I’m friends with you? I’m still taking it in.” Ron looked at the blonde. “Does he do that with all your friends?”

“Not that I know of,” Draco said, frowning. “At least he approves, though.”

Ron puffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess that's something.”

Draco nudged Ron’s arm. “You're taking up all the room, move.”

“I’m bigger than you so I take up more room, obviously.”

“You’re not bigger you’re just taller,” Draco pouted.

“Not my fault you haven't had a growth spurt yet.”

The hit pillow he got to the face for that was completely worth it.

~YEAR THREE~

Third-year started, they came back a little taller, voices a little deeper and their friendship closer than ever.

“How was Egypt?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at Ron’s tan.

“Amazing. The structures and the sand and the, um, what-do-you-call-ems? Highfrogriffics?”

“You mean the hieroglyphics?” Draco corrected, snickering.

“Yeah, them,” Ron said dreamily, ignoring his friend’s amusement. “Even Charlie came along, it's been ages since we’ve seen him.”

Draco looked thoughtfully at him. “I’ll have to take you on holiday one day, you’ll love it,” the blonde insisted.

Ron swallowed down his jealousy at Draco’s wealth.

“Me? Stuck with the Malfoy’s? Abroad? I’m not a masochist, thanks.”

“Don’t be stupid, mother and father are rarely there. I’d love to have some company for a change.”

Ron looked at his friend. His jaw was unusually tense for his jovial tone, in fact, his whole body was tense.

“Doesn't that get kind of... lonely?”

Draco shrugged, plastering on a smile again. “Well, not if you come.”

Unsure what to say to Draco’s strange behaviour, Ron decided to change the subject to safer topics.

“So, we’ve got Care of Magical Creatures next, right?”

The blonde gave a loud groan. “Can you believe that - that savage is teaching us? My father is outraged, he's just waiting for a reason to get him sacked.”

“Do you think he’s even got enough brain cells to teach?”

“I heard every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

Ron burst out laughing at the image, setting off Draco as well.

“Maybe it won't be so bad, there’s gotta be something interesting there,” Ron said as their giggles died down.

“Hm, maybe. Animals never seem to like me, though.”

~~~

“I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?” Draco said to the Hippogriff. “Are you, you ugly great brute?”

Ron hadn't been looking when the animal’s giant talon came crashing down on his friend but he’d heard him scream and could easily guess what had happened.

Draco lay on the floor, curled protectively around his arm, yelping as best he could between whimpers.

“I’m dying! I’m dying, look at me! It's killed me!”

Ron rushed to his friend's side and crouched down beside him.

“Get him to the hospital, you bloody oaf!” Ron yelled at their teacher. He grasped Draco’s unharmed hand gently, feeling relieved when he felt him squeeze back.

“Someone help me - gotta get him outta here-” Hagrid said to himself.

Soon Draco had been scooped up and was being carried back to school with Ron was following close after. Droplets of blood made a path as they ran and he distantly heard Pansy Parkinson sobbing hysterically behind them. Like she had any right. This was his best friend.

~~~

“How are you feeling?”

 

It was dark in the sky by the time Pomfrey let Ron see his friend. The redhead had spent the time playing chess with Vincent and Gregory, though it wasn't much of a challenge.

Draco was looked unharmed besides the sling around his arm, although his eyes were half open, staring blearily at him in the dim light.

“You should be at dinner,” he croaked.

Ron shrugged. “Wasn't hungry.”

Draco patted the side of the bed with his good arm.

Sitting down heavily, Ron asked again, “How are you feeling?”

Draco shot him a puppy-eyed look. “Well, I almost lost my arm so pretty bad… but I’m mostly just tired.”

Ron gave him a sympathetic smile. “You coming back to the dorms tonight?”

“Yeah, Pomfrey says I can leave with you,” he said, slowly sitting up. “Ow, owww. I thought she said these painkillers would work.”

“I also said that they would take a minute, Mr Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey called.

Draco glared but Ron doubted the matron could see it.

“Let’s wait a bit, okay?” Ron murmured, gently pushing the disgruntled blonde back down.

Draco grumbled but obeyed.

“Horrible, aren’t they? The dementors.” Ron shuddered, attempting to keep Draco distracted.

Draco nodded. “I wish they did their job and found Black already, it’s taken long enough.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “You’d think it would be pretty easy to find a barmy, murderous criminal but I guess not.”

“Ugh and you can tell they’re dying to get into the school,” Draco blanched, looking increasingly worried.

“Isn't he your cousin? Black, I mean.” Ron asked.

“Yeah, on my mother's side. She's never spoken about him, though.”

“Pansy’s delirious about what happened to you,” Ron told him after a lull in the conversation.

Draco made a dismissive gesture, “She’s delirious about everything.”

Ron looked up at Draco through his fringe. “I thought you’d want to know because you…y’know, like her, right?”

“Pansy?!” Draco squawked suddenly. “She’s like my sister, that’s - ew.”

“Oh,” Ron let out a breath.

“Why would you think I like her? I don't even like - never mind. I’m ready to leave now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Draco said sharply.

Ron frowned.

The blonde started getting up, gently manoeuvring his legs over the bed, trying to move his arm as little as possible.

“D’you need some help-”

“No. I’m fine, Ron.”

The redhead scowled. He took Draco's good arm and placed it over his shoulder, made slightly awkward with the height difference. Cautiously, he hoisted his friend up, ignoring the other’s spluttering.

“What do you think you're doing-”

“I don't know why you’ve suddenly gotten all sulky with me but that doesn't mean I'm letting you struggle back to our room alone.”

Draco huffed but, for once, stayed quiet and allowed Ron’s help. Together they slowly made their way back to the dungeons, cursing the people who decided having so many stairs was a good idea.

~~~

“That mudblood is a maniac! How dare she slap me - how dare she touch me. I think my skin is burning off, great aunt Aquila said if a mudblood makes contact with you can get all these awful diseases!”

The redhead looked on at his friend’s admittedly over the top ranting, trying his best to hold back a smile.

“Does my cheek look alright to you? It’s all intact, yes? I think I may be dying - Ron, stop laughing at me!”

Alright, he couldn't help it. The sight of Draco fretting about his impending death because of a slap was too much.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ron giggled. “It’s very important, I shouldn't be laughing.”

“It is very import - oh, shut up would you!”

Chuckling, Ron walked over to his friend and took hold of his shoulders, forcing him to face him.

“You’ll be fine.”

Draco looked up at him, big puppy dog eyes shining with unshed (most likely fake) tears.

“You promise?”

Ron let out a puff of laughter, still smiling. “Yes. Now stop worrying.”

Draco rolled his eyes and shrugged him off, walking over to his bed and sitting down. Starting to take off his boots, he said, “If I start coming down with boils or my face peels off you are dead.”

Ron smiled to himself as he searched his bed for Scabbers, not wanting to accidentally sit on him.

“You’re not looking for that old rat again, are you?” Draco asked. Scabbers going missing had become a recent occurrence lately but this had been the longest time without him.

“It’s been days,” Ron said sadly.

Draco came over and patted him awkwardly. “Look on the bright side, he was ugly.”

Ron jabbed Draco’s side but did let out a small laugh.

“I bet it was Granger’s bloody cat,” he grumbled, fully accepting that his pet was gone for good. “It’s been eyeing him for weeks.”

“Maybe your parents will let you get a new pet now,” Draco suggested innocently.

Ron stayed silent, knowing full well they couldn’t afford it.

“But in the meantime, I’ll let you pet Aurelius,” Draco said. He was referring to his eagle owl, which was rarely there anyway due to always delivering parcels from Draco’s mother.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled, realising Draco trying to make him feel better, not shove his wealth in his face.

“Speaking of Aurelius,” the blonde said, taking Ron’s hand and leading him to his bed. “Want some of today’s package? Mother sent brownies.”

Ron couldn’t resist brownies at the best of times, let alone when he was mourning his likely-dead rat.

“Sure,” he yielded, already reaching for one.

~~~

Things this year had been interesting. With Scabbers going missing, Draco almost getting a hippogriff sentenced to death and being partially responsible for a teacher getting fired, Ron supposed interesting would be the right word. Once Snape had unsubtly let on to Draco (and their whole class) that their DADA teacher might not be completely human, Draco had told his father and from then on the predictable happened. Lucius complained to the school board, much like he had with Buckbeak, and Professor Lupin was gone by the end of the week.

It was strange how, despite not always agreeing with the blonde's decisions, he could always see the logic in them, or at least forgive them. Alright, maybe he should stand up to him more, Ron could admit to that, but if things always ended up okay eventually what was the problem?

Even when he used words like ‘mudblood’, Ron was finding it harder and harder to see what the issue was. Since Draco often went on about blood purity, most of which was spouted from his father - who had also given them a lecture or two about it - Ron found himself finding it more and more difficult to contradict them. He had always been raised to think that wizards and muggles were equal but were they really?

“Where do you think magic comes from, Draco?” Ron asked one lazy afternoon, as they lounged around in their bedroom.

“Father says it comes from the brain,” Draco replied shortly, focussing on the exploding snap game he and Blaise were playing.

“But what do you think?”

“Well, he says muggle brains are underdeveloped and they aren't able to achieve their full potential,” the blonde shrugged. “That sounds about right.”

“On that logic, doesn't that mean they would one day be able to achieve it?” Blaise interjected.

Draco frowned. “Maybe but not for centuries. Evolution and all that. Be careful what you say, Blaise, you sound like you think they might one day be on par with us. You aren't some kind of muggle-lover are you?”

Draco sneered and the dark-skinned boy mirrored it as if the very idea disgusted him.

“Obviously not but nothing good comes out of stubbornly holding onto illogical explanations.”

The blonde’s mouth thinned. “Oh yeah? What's your reasoning then?”

“Magic comes from the soul, some souls just can't handle it.”

There was a pause, everyone was silent in thought.

“What kind of naff idea is that?” Ron scoffed.

They all chuckled, even Blaise.

“I read the theory in a book, okay? They explained it better than I could.”

“I heard some Puffs say it was to do with jeans but isn't that some sort of muggle clothes?” Vincent spoke up.

None of them had an explanation for that, all being pureblood.

“That's what you get for listening to Hufflepuffs,” Blaise said, raising a sleek eyebrow.

~FOURTH YEAR~

Ron couldn't get his and Draco’s plans to meet off of his mind as he and his family hiked along the leaf-strewn forest path, even when they met up with the Diggorys.

They had decided they would assemble by the Quidditch World Cup’s merchandise store, where Draco would probably buy too many overpriced items before they separated once again. At first, Draco had offered to get the redhead tickets to the match, unaware that Ron’s father had already managed to buy some himself. The blonde’s surprised and disappointed look when Ron told him he would be sitting with his family almost made him reconsider. Almost. His dad had looked so pleased with himself when he’d told them all that he'd gotten tickets that Ron couldn't bear to refuse. Treats like this never happened to his family. And secretly Ron could admit he was too ashamed of his and his family's financial situation to accept lavish gifts from Draco, even if they hardly left a dent in the Malfoy’s bank.

Even so, he was excited to meet up with his friend after so long of not seeing him. It was always hard without him, not having someone who understood him or made him feel welcome. His family could say what they wanted about the Malfoy’s but Ron knew how accepted he’d felt at their dinner table back when he and Draco had met up outside of school for the first time and he'd always be grateful for that.

“Ron,” his father said quietly, falling back to talk to him privately. “You alright? You’ve been quiet.”

“Er, yeah. I’m just excited to see Draco.”

Arthur gave a small frown.

“I know you miss him but this is a family thing, okay? Try and get along with us. We don't get to see you much anymore.”

Ron flinched at the sadness in his father's voice, ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt.

“I know. Sorry, dad,” Ron said honestly.

Arthur gave his shoulder a pat. “It’s fine. Your mum and I have just been a bit... worried about you. You spending so much time with that boy-”

“He’s my friend,” Ron growled. His glare said the discussion was over.

A pause. Arthur must’ve realised any disagreements were pointless, especially since they’d be sharing a small tent soon with very few places to hide, as a dejected nod was all his father replied with, walking faster to catch up with Amos.

“Not long now, everyone!” Said man called out, grinning, blissfully unaware of the tense conversation that had just happened.

Ron decided they couldn't get there soon enough.

~~~

His meeting with Draco had been unfortunately brief since their dads had been staring daggers at each other the whole time. The situation had been a bit uncomfortable, to say the least.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? Come visit my tent anytime,” Draco mumbled into his shoulder as they hugged goodbye.

“I’ll try and escape if I can,” Ron whispered back.

They quickly parted, their families already walking away and rushed after them.

Their trek up to their seats was tiring and Ron collapsed into his seat as soon as he reached it.

“The game should be starting in about ten minutes. Anyone want anything?” Arthur asked.

They all shook their heads, so instead, they all got comfortable, waiting for the game to begin.

When the Leprechauns came out and the Irish flew into the arena cheers erupted throughout the stadium and similarly with the Bulgarians arrival.

The Veelas they brought with them left everyone gaping. Ron was just as enraptured as everybody else - just looking at them made him like he’d just scored a goal or had made Draco laugh. There was a glowy aura around them and if Ron listened carefully he could swear he heard floaty music in the distance.

 

After that, much of it was a blur. The mascots being escorted off pitch meant he could focus on the game and he watched Krum as best he could with the speed the wizard was going at.

As he pulled off the Wronski Feint, Ron gaped in awe.

He was just as outraged as Viktor was when the Irish miraculously won but was soon distracted by Fred and George’s attempt at an Irish jig to stay angry for long.

~~~

“Sounds like the Irish have their pride on!”

“Stop it! It's not the Irish,” Arthur said seriously. We've got to go. Now!" Arthur pushed everyone out of the tent. "Get back to the portkey, everybody, and stick together. Fred, George… Ginny is your responsibility." The twins nodded before they all started to run, avoiding the scared crowd and figures in masks as best as they could.

Ron’s head whipped around, searching for blonde hair in a mass of chaos. No one was standing still long enough for a good look, so he relented, for now, deciding to run into the near forest, following many other panicked people.

After a few miles of running, Ron felt his chest burn and his lungs scream in protest but he only stopped due to a tree root that he hadn't seen in the inky darkness.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

“Ron?” a voice asked from the blackness. Footsteps approached him, sticks breaking underneath them.

“Maybe. Who's asking?” he said, getting up cautiously.

The voice responded with a quiet Lumos and Ron found himself face to face with the boy he’d been concerned about just a few minutes ago.

“What were you doing on the floor?”

“Tripped over a tree root,” he muttered, dusting himself off.

“Well, with feet that size, hard not to,” Draco drawled, winking.

Ron blushed but ignored the comment.

“Are you okay? D’you know what's going on?”

Draco stayed quiet, smirk fading.

“Draco?”

“Look, you should keep going. Find your family,” he said, serious now.

“But what about you? What about your parents - oh…”

“Yeah… I’ll be fine. Go,” Draco insisted.

Grabbing his friend roughly, Ron pulled him into a tight hug.

“There, there, Weaselbee,” Draco said quietly, grasping the fabric at Ron’s shoulders.

The hug lasted longer than was probably safe, considering the loudness of the screams and explosions still going on.

“Off with you now,” Draco commanded, pushing Ron away and deeper into the woods. “I’ll see you at Hogwarts.”

Ron gave his friend a solemn nod and one last look before sprinting further into the darkness.

~~~

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

He and Draco were lounging on the blonde's bed at Hogwarts, distractedly playing chess.

The board was one of Draco’s, hovering in the air in front of them, expensive pieces shining when they caught the light.

“What’s to say?” Draco mumbled, shrugging.

“Maybe “my dad's a Death Eater, just thought I’d let you know!”

“Ron!” Draco snapped. “I can’t just go around saying things like that and neither can you! So be _quiet_.”

The redhead sighed. “At least tell me you don't… agree with what they did.”

“What? They were just muggles, they're lesser-”

“Just muggles? You wouldn't do what they did to an animal, why do it to another human?”

“Well - they're-” Draco spluttered. “You just can, okay?”

“Look, I’m no muggle lover but if you're going to hate them at least make sure it's your own opinion,” Ron grumbled.

Draco gave a loud harumph but let the conversation drop, grumpily continuing their chess match.

“Rook to E4,” Ron ordered.

Draco scowled further as his knight was destroyed.

“Bishop to…” Draco let out a frustrated sigh. “Alright, maybe I’ve been considering father might not be right about everything. Maybe. But I’m still angry at you.”

“What!? Why are you angry at me?”

“I’m always angry at you, Weaselbee,” he said, smirking as he shattered Ron’s knight.

~~~

“Would you stop staring at him?”

Ron’s head snapped around, ears burning.

“What - I wasn't staring!”

Draco raised his eyebrow, giving him a look that showed he clearly wasn't buying it.

“Admit it, you were ogling Krum just like all his other fangirls.”

“N-no,” Ron stuttered. “I was just admiring-”

Draco snorted.

“Shut up,” Ron shoved him playfully.

“I can’t blame you, from behind he’s certainly not bad.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “What’ve you been doing staring at his behind?”

“At his behind? What - no, I was talking about his face, it isn't all that pleasant. One too many bludgers.”

“Oh.”

“But that isn't to say I haven't done some admiring of my own,” Draco said, winking. “You’d be blind to miss that-”

“Mr Malfoy, I do hope your admiring won’t keep you from your Transfiguration lesson in five minutes,” came a sharp Scottish voice from behind them.

“Of course not, Professor McGonagall,” Draco said smoothly, though his cheeks did turn pink. “Not even wild centaurs could keep me away.”

“I should hope so. You too, Mr Weasley,” and with that, she strode past them, down to her classroom.

“Bloody, old bird,” Draco muttered. “Just because she’s not getting any.”

Ron barked out a laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

“Hey!” Draco hit him on the shoulder. “I’m irresistible, people throw themselves at me.”

“Sure, Draco,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t say Parkinson is throwing herself, but she's certainly close.”

“Don’t even joke about that! Father still thinks we’re to be married,” Draco cringed, paler than normal.

“You don't have any say?”

“I probably do but what if the next options worse? What if I have to marry some wrinkled, miserable widow? I can't bear the thought.”

“Well, if worse comes to worst, I’ll marry you. Can't get married if you already are,” Ron joked.

“That certainly would be the worst,” Draco said, smirking. “Though I suppose you wouldn't be that bad to marry.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ron scoffed. “Glad to hear you aren't revolted by the idea.”

“No, but really, you're funny, smart enough, not bad in the face department-”

Ron rolled his eyes. “As overwhelmed as I am by your kind words, I think if we put off Transfig any longer she’ll have our heads.”

“Fine, fine. But anyway, have you seen the newest broom model? I can't wait to get it. The - oh, what's it called?”

As they walked into class, Ron partially listened to his friends rambling, more than used to it, and tried to ignore the warm feeling at the thought of Draco’s words. _You're funny, smart enough, not bad in the face department…_

~~~

“Some lesson, eh?” said Ron to Draco as they set off for the Slytherin common room, weaving through the crowd from their DADA class. “Fred and George were right when they talked about him. He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn’t he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right out. Wow...”

Draco gave him a worried look then shook his head as if to clear it.

“I’m sure it was ten kinds of illegal, allowing him to show us Unforgivables but Dumbledore always manages to get his way.”

“And Moody’s been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attack first and ask questions later,” Ron said.

“Comforting,” Draco muttered.

“Have you started your Divination homework yet?” Ron asked.

The blonde let out a loud groan.

Ron chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no. Haberdashery.”

At the sound of the password, the entrance to the common room was revealed and the familiar green decorations submerged them.

“Come on, we’ll just make up a bunch of stuff,” Ron said, nudging his friend.

“Easy for you to say, you’re good at it. All my predictions are about my imminent death,” he complained.

“Those are her favourites,” Ron grinned. “She’ll probably give you an E if its extra gruesome.”

~~~

“My father and I have a bet,” Draco calls to Potter. “I don't think you'll last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five.”

Potter glared, crowding Draco against the nearby tree. “I don't give a damn what you or your father thinks Malfoy. He's vile and cruel, and you're just pathetic.”

Anger flared in Draco’s eyes as Potter began to walk away. Draco’s got his wand out and a spell on his lips before Ron can react.

“I'll teach you to cast when someone's back is turned!”

Suddenly, light flashes and Draco’s not there anymore. Instead, a hissing tells Ron to look down, where he finds what once was his friend now in the form of a furious white ferret.

“Professor Moody, what are you doing?” Ron had never been more grateful to see his Transfiguration teacher striding towards them.

“Teaching,” the man snarled, waving the rodent in the air.

McGonagall looked flabbergasted. “Is that - is that a _student_?”

“Technically it's a ferret,” he grinned.

Then, to make the situation as traumatic as possible, his once-friend-now-ferret was forced down his trousers, while still wriggling in a frenzy. Ron found himself too shocked to do much more than squirm and whimper as Gregory desperately (but uselessly) swiped at his legs.

It could’ve been seconds or minutes, Ron had no idea how much time had passed before Draco finally found his way out and McGonagall mercifully transfigured him back.

“My father will hear about this!” Draco yelled as immediately as he was able, hair sticking out in every direction and robes disarrayed.

“Is that a threat?” Moody barked, stepping towards him.

Draco took off running, forgetting his bag in favour of safety. In a panic, Ron grabbed it and dashed after his friend, hearing their group follow after at his heels and laughter of others fade behind him.

~~~

Ron had never seen his friend look more frightened and intrigued as he did when they went to meet his brother, Charlie, to sneak a peek at the dragons they'd brought to Hogwarts. He was practically vibrating, whether it was from fear or excitement, Ron had no idea.

“Ron!” Charlie exclaimed as they approached him. “And small blonde boy I’ve never seen before!”

“Hello,” Draco breathed, too distracted and enraptured by the sight of dragons close up.

“Hey, Charlie! This is my friend, Draco,” Ron introduced, nudging his friend slightly to get his attention.

Charlie grinned widely. “As in Latin for dragon, eh? I like you already.”

Draco would have responded, probably something snarky, but he was interrupted by a burst of fire in their direction. The flames got so close Ron could swear it had signed his arm hair.

“Oof, Emmy’s been in a right foul mood since she got here,” Charlie frowned. He was much less shaken by the attack than Draco and Ron who had jumped back a few feet to avoid any more hits. “We should probably stay by the bushes while they try and calm her down.”

“Emmy?” Draco asked, practically running to the edge of the clearing.

Charlie nodded in the direction of the furious dragon that had just tried to fry them. “The Hungarian Horntail. She was like that when we first rescued her. Hates being transported, that one. She’s usually better behaved than this, though.”

Said dragon was struggling all she could, straining against the ropes and magic that tried to contain her. Sharp, golden wings stretched high into the smoky air and beat wildly as if she were attempting to lift off.

Charlie let out an appreciative whistle. “Even after all these years, dragons never get dull.”

“But she can be kept contained? She isn't going to escape?” Draco asked warily, eyeing the scene with worry.

“Yeah, they have all the best on the job. But with how it's going I might need to step in. Be back in a sec!” Charlie said, jogging towards his coworkers, wand out.

“But we can stay and look around, right?” Ron called after him.

“Sure but don't get any closer than you are and don't touch anything!” Charlie yelled, before getting tangled up in the excitement.

“Um, will he be alright?” Draco asked, bewildered.

“What, Charlie? Yeah. He might come home with a new scar or two but he knows what he’s doing.”

They watched for a bit longer, almost hypnotised by the sight, and had a look at some of the other dragons. They seemed much calmer, probably more used to people and travelling. Soon they headed back to Hogwarts, knowing if they didn’t hurry they’d be out past curfew, seeing as they’d already skipped dinner to be able to see the dragons.

“Thanks for showing me,” Draco said softly. “It was amazing. Did you see some of their wingspans? _Wow_.”

Ron smiled back. “You think I’d take anyone else? And miss your reactions? No thanks.”

Draco scoffed. “I was perfectly calm!”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are your hands shaking?” Ron said, grabbing his friend’s hands and holding them in the air. They were indeed trembling but while holding them Ron noticed that they were also cold to the touch.

“How many times have I told you to wear gloves?” Ron chided, taking turns with each hand to hold them to his mouth and blow on them.

“Only about 100 times, mother,” Draco muttered but otherwise didn’t complain.

Ron just rolled his eyes and continued walking to the castle, still holding onto one of Draco’s hands. It slotted perfectly with his and the moment was made even better by Draco’s lack of sarcastic comments. Instead, they wandered back in comfortable silence, their arms swinging gently between them.

~~~

The Slytherins from the fourth year and older were piled into an empty room, besides a few chairs and a gramophone. Snape stood in the middle looking even more miserable than usual, a difficult feat to achieve.

“Due to the foolish, at best, idea to host the Triwizard Tournament, a Yule Ball has been arranged to celebrate the international union, harmony and any other excuse Dumbledore has created to have a ball.”

The group snickered.

“We heads of house have been given the unfortunate task of teaching our students how to dance. Any volunteers to show us how it's done?”

“Merlin, he isn't going to get some poor girl to dance with him, is he?” Draco whispered to Ron, causing him to snicker.

“Malfoy, Weasley. As you two seem so attached,” Snape snapped. “Why don't you give us a demonstration?”

Both heads snapped towards their teacher, eyes wide.

“Professor, surely you don't think Ron can dance? Think of my poor feet-’

“Then, surely, you should be the perfect tutor. I know for a fact you’ve had lessons,” Snape raised a challenging eyebrow, smirking.

A few sniggers went around the room as the boys blushed, Ron tried to bore a hole through the floor as Draco glared at his godfather.

“Let’s just get it over with, okay?” Ron mumbled, standing up. Draco hesitated but stood up too, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“So should I-” “Who's going to be the guy-”

They awkwardly moved their arms about, trying to get in the right position without communicating.

Eventually, Ron got tired of their failing attempt and grabbed his friend around the waist. Draco’s eyes widened and Ron blushed further. Silently, Draco took one of Ron’s hands in his and placed the other on the redhead’s shoulder.

“Why do I have to be the bloody girl?” Draco muttered.

“Well, you’re small-” At the blonde's glare, Ron backpedalled. “Smaller. You’re completely normal sized - look, just ignore me.”

At this point, the small tittering in the room had erupted to full on laughter, even Draco and Ron started to giggle.

“Okay, so you start with your feet there, yes, then they go over to - ugh, no. There.”

The lesson went better than expected, Ron stepped on Draco’s feet a few times, as he had feared, but overall it was alright. No one died, so it could've been worse. By the time Snape had got everyone up to start trying, they were doing pretty well.

“You have to remember to keep your partner close, like this,” Draco said, pulling Ron closer. “And keep your - Ron, are you even listening?”

Only now did Ron realise that he was staring, he had gotten so distracted by watching his friend concentrate that he may have forgotten to listen.

“‘Course!”

“Oh, really? So, what did I say?”

Ron paused for a moment, desperately searching.

“You said… Oh, I know! You said to keep your partner close,” Ron duplicated Draco’s action and pulled them closer still. His friend gasped and Ron mimicked it, finding his face suddenly very close to Draco’s.

“Maybe you were listening…” Draco murmured. His pink tongue flashed out and wet his lips and Ron found that once he looked at Draco’s mouth, he couldn't look away.

“It’s known to happen on occasion,” Ron breathed.

It was only when another couple bumped into them that he realised they had come to a standstill.

Draco jerked out of his hold as if his touch had burnt him.

“You did well,” he choked out, staring at him with wide, grey eyes. “That's enough for now.”

Without any permission from Snape, Draco hurried out, his head ducked low, trying to hide his burning cheeks.

Snape raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't comment, thankfully.

“I’m going to go make sure he's okay…” Ron informed his professor, beginning to leave as well.

“I’m sure Mr Malfoy is perfectly fine being without you for a minute,” Snape said. “Miss Greengrass, I see you slacking over there. Come here, you have yourself a new partner.”

“But Professor-” Ron cut off at Snape’s hard look.

Obediently, Ron got into position with the girl but as he resumed practice all he could think about was how close he had gotten to his friend and how it had been much more pleasant than he’d like to admit.

~~~

Ron assumed correctly that the first place Draco would go would be the dorms and rushed there as soon as he’d been allowed, leaving a slightly put out Greengrass sister behind him.

The blonde sat on his bed, apparently enraptured by the book he was reading, though Ron doubted by how much. Ron approached him slowly.

“Are you okay?” He started hesitantly.

Draco looked up from his book, face expressionless.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just sick of dancing.”

Ron stared at his friend, trying to decipher if that was the truth. Draco usually told him everything and after four years of friendship, Ron was pretty good at knowing when Draco was lying. Had dancing with Ron upset him? They weren't new to physical contact, they hugged often and even slept in the same bed when Ron couldn't be bothered to walk all the way to the Malfoy’s spare room during the holidays.

“Did I do something?” Ron asked. He knew something was wrong, whether Draco wanted to admit it or not.

“No,” Draco assured. When the redhead refused to move he rolled his eyes. “Really, Ron, I’m fine. We’re fine. Just drop it.”

Ron remained sceptical, wary of Draco’s unusual calmness.

“Well, alright then,” Ron said, going over and sitting down on his own bed. “But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

 

“Of course,” Draco gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And same here.”

Ron smiled back and they faded into a comfortable silence.

That was the rest of their roommates barged through the door, all talking and laughing loudly.

“There you two are!” Gregory grinned.

“You both left so early, we didn't get the chance to compliment your dancing,” Blaise said slyly. “And might I say, you make a beautiful couple.”

Draco’s pillow hit the dark-skinned boy squarely in the face.

“Alright, I deserved that,” Blaise chuckled. “But really, if you're not taking each other, who are you going with?”

Ron was caught off guard. “We don't have to take someone, do we?”

“Technically, no,” he replied. “If you want to look like a complete loser.”

“Not hard for Weasley,” Vincent chimed in.

Ron sent him a glare but it was half-hearted at best, too distracted by who he’d be going with to the Yule Ball.

“Couldn't we all just go as friends?” Ron asked hopefully.

Blaise snorted. “I’ve got my eyes set on someone and I’m not giving them up for you lot. No offence.”

“Oh, none taken, mate,” Ron muttered sarcastically.

“Have you got anyone in mind, Ron?” Draco asked suddenly.

“What? No, I was just planning on going with you,” Ron answered.

After Draco’s cheeks burned pink and the rest of the group went oddly silent, Ron attempted to correct himself.

“I mean, not just you,” he stuttered. “All of you, as a group but since Blaise is ditching us I guess my plans dead.”

“We could,” Draco mumbled quietly. “We could still go together. With Greg and Vince, of course.”

“I was planning on going with Millicent,” Gregory spoke up.

“Oh, well, I guess it'll just be me, you and Vince then-”

“I've asked Grace already, sorry,” Vincent informed.

“What, that third year you hit with your bag?” Blaise sneered.

“That was an accident!”

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. “Whatever, if she's that desperate to get to go, props to her.”

Vincent glared at him but didn't respond.

“It looks like it's just you two lovebirds,” Blaise snarked.

They both spluttered, blushing furiously and denying vehemently.

Blaise rolled his eyes at them, collapsing back onto his bed.

“But, um, you still want to go with me, right?” Ron asked shyly.

“Of course!” Draco squeaked, wide-eyed. “Though, those frilly nightmares you got in the post aren't really your dress robes, right?”

Looking bashfully at his friend from under his fringe, Ron gave a small shrug.

Draco gave him a horrified stare.

“We’re going robe shopping,” Draco said.

“But-”

“No, you have no choice in this,” the blonde insisted. “We’re going whether you like it or not. I’m not being seen in public with you wearing...whatever that was.”

Ron groaned and smooshed his face into his pillow. He could already imagine the horrific experience. Draco took years when shopping, you’d think for someone so rich he’d just buy everything he wanted but no. He has to take his time deciding every small detail Ron wouldn't have even considered. He knew this weekend would revolve around hems and stitching. Unfortunately, he also knew he’d suffer through it because, at the end of it all, Draco would give him that look that meant thank you for putting up with me and he'd forgive him, just like he always does.

~~~

The lights of the hall glimmered, making the many decorations gleam. Fake snow laid still and unmelting, charmed to remain while still being cool to the touch. Flitwick had really outdone himself.

Ron tried his best to stay calm as he waited at the entrance, it was only Draco after all. And they weren’t even going together as a date. They weren’t. That’s not how Draco saw it, it was completely platonic.

Though, when Draco turned the corner, Ron felt himself hoping it was a bit more than platonic. Draco had gone with dark blue robes, after hours of holding up all his numerous options to himself in front of the mirror, and Ron could confidently say it was the right decision. It made the faint blueness of his eyes even clearer and his pale skin seemed to glow in contrast to the shadowy material. His hair laid softly around his face, finally forsaking the gel, as Ron had often encouraged him to do.

What Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of, though, was Draco’s smile. It was small, barely there, but it was real. He rarely ever smiled. Smirked and grinned, yes, but smiled? It made Ron breathless every time, especially when it was directed at him.

“You clean up pretty well.” Draco said as he came to a standstill next to him.

“Y-you too,” Ron stuttered.

Draco’s lips quirked up further and without warning, he placed his hand under Ron’s chin and closed his mouth.

“You’ll catch flies,” Draco said.

Ron, ever the suave gentleman, attempted to reply with something witty and funny but, instead, a mess of garbled sounds unwillingly extorted themselves.

“Charming,” Draco puffed. Confidently, the blonde grabbed Ron’s hand in his and begun to lead him into the hall.

“Wait,” Ron said, tugging Draco’s hand to get him to stop. “Are we - is this - what are?”

“We’re going to the Yule Ball,” Draco said slowly. “Are you alright? Going senile already?”

“Together?”

Draco gave him a look like he was missing something right in front of his face.

“Yes? That’s what we decided, isn’t it?”

“But together together?”

Suddenly, Draco went very pale.

“Obviously not!” Draco burst out, snatching his hand back. Ron stared at him in shock at his eruption. “U-unless that’s what you want..?”

Ron nodded vigorously, too stunned to risk responding verbally and saying something as jumbled as earlier.

“Wait, was that for going together or not?”

Shaking his head, he tried to hold back his grin. They couldn’t even get a straight answer out of each other.

“I want to go with you,” Ron said. “Together.”

“Together or together to-”

“Alright, now I know you’re messing with me,” Ron laughed.

Draco smirked. “Maybe.”

They paused, staring at each other, both unsure of what to do now.

Shyly, Ron inched his hand closer towards Draco, giving him plenty of time to reject him. After a heart-stopping moment, Ron let out a sigh of relief when Draco laced their fingers together.

They made their way onto the already busy dance floor, ignoring the winks and thumbs up from their friends as they did. They started out cautiously, holding each other loosely and swaying gently, nervously avoiding eye contact, cheeks blushing every time they met. Throughout the night their dancing became more confident, they moved closer and rested their foreheads together when they paused to catch their breath.

Between dances, getting drinks and making conversations with friends, the night went by in a blur. It sounded cheesy but Ron couldn’t think of when he’d had more fun.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” Draco said. By this time most people had left, only a few couples remained, dancing leisurely, even many of the teachers had gone.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Ron said, only now realising how tired he was.

They wandered through the candlelit halls together, their hands brushing against each other as they ambled back to their dorms. Through the windows they could see snow falling unhurriedly over the grounds, covering everything in a layer of white.

“Tonight was really nice,” Draco said quietly. He came to a stop, grasping Ron’s hand to stop him too.

“Yeah, it was,” Ron mumbled.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. Ron inched forward and their hands met again, fingers entwining once more.

They both let out breathless laughs before falling into silence, keeping eye contact for as long as they could without blushing.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, come here,” Draco said, tugging Ron’s head down and connected their lips.

It wasn't the romantic first kiss Ron had expected it to be, it was clumsy and timid but it was Draco. Any clashing of teeth or bumping of noses could easily be ignored in favour of the warmth and softness of his mouth. He knew neither of them were experienced but it seemed to make it all that much better. Draco, his gorgeous best friend, was his first kiss.

They separated with a faint wet sound and lent their foreheads together to steady themselves.

“That was…”

Ron puffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”

“We should head back to the dorms,” Draco said, pulling away to yawn. “It must be past twelve by now.”

Despite feigning calmness, Draco’s cheeks were stained red and he repeatedly ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair, a nervous habit, Ron noted.

“Good idea,” Ron agreed, remembering his earlier tiredness which had now vanished. Looking down, he noticed a tremor in his hands and tucked them in his pocket to hide it, his heart still beating with adrenaline.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Draco said surely, leaving no argument. “For now, sleep.”

~~~

On the lazy morning after the Yule Ball, Ron sat next to Draco on the blonde’s bed, their sides touching as they talked casually. Draco hadn’t bothered to get out of his duvet cocoon yet, while Ron had brought over his patchworked blanket to keep him warm. Despite his tiredness last night, he had been up for far longer than he should’ve been. Anxiety had kept him awake as his head created scenario after scenario of what he would say to Draco, while he’d been lying in his bed trying to get to sleep. Had they had windows down in the dungeons he was sure he would’ve seen the sunrise.

“The ball was fun, huh?” Ron nudged his friend, unsure of how to bring up what had happened between them.

“I’ll admit, it was one of Dumbledore’s few good ideas,” Draco relented. “Though seeing Filch and his cat dance was an… experience.”

Ron laughed. “Almost as traumatising as seeing Moody get pissed in the corner.”

Laughing back, Draco pulled his duvet back over him, during their conversation it had slipped down.

“So, about last night…” Ron started.

Draco turned to face him, giving him a very serious look. “I would like to try.”

Ron blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Um, try what?”

“Oh, us. Like a couple. If you want,” Draco said, his hands fidgeting nervously with the blanket. Clearly he had been up all night thinking about this too.

Giving him a wide-eyed stare, Ron nodded.

“I’d like that too!” he barked.

Draco startled in surprise at his loud reaction before a gush of laughter rang out from him, setting off Ron’s laughter too.

“Alright then,” he said, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Trying.”

~~~

“What’s the point of this bloody tournament if we can't even watch the tasks?” Draco grumbled.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ron said. “This is riveting.”

Draco snorted. “As much as I love hanging out by large bodies of water, remind me why we bothered to come?”

“We’ll never get the opportunity again,” Ron shrugged. “After this, they’ll probably remember why they cancelled it in the first place.”

Draco groaned but relented his complaining, leaning on his hand with a bored expression. They stood high on one of the temporary wooden stands, overlooking the Black Lake, and attempted to keep themselves from falling asleep as they waited for something, anything, to happen.

After many dragging minutes, the champions began to appear. Diggory was the first to surface, towing a disorientated Cho Chang along with him. Soon Krum followed with Granger, who choked unattractively on the water as the Bulgarian tugged her to shore. The crowds cheered when they resurfaced, waving their chosen champion flags and yelling their support.

“Should've left her down there,” Ron muttered, eliciting a laugh from the Slytherins around him.

The crowd tensely waited for the next champion, the Beauxbatons students looking increasingly worried. Peeking at Draco’s watch, Ron found the hour almost up.

“Dumbledore wouldn't actually leave them down there if they didn't get back in time, right?”

At his words, Fleur Delacour, along with two mermaids, appeared out of the water and swam to the wooden ledge. The crowd applauded politely at her arrival. The Beauxbatons students, who had previously looked frightened and worried, sagged with relief as they spotted their champion, soaked but alive and well.

“That just leaves Potter,” Draco murmured.

Just as Draco was about to reply, Neville Longbottom broke the water, Gabrielle Delacour at his side, clinging to him.

“It’s a marvel he can even float,” Draco said, more alert now that something was happening.

Ron gave a weak laugh, too distracted by the task to give a proper reaction.

Suddenly, the clock chimed loudly, signalling the end of the hour and making them all jump.

“So, where's Potter?” Ron asked, leaning over the fence to get a better look.

Draco shrugged. “He’s run out of time but he can't be far off finishing.”

A few more tense minutes went by before said boy burst out of the water, whooping in delight, generating the biggest hurrah so far.

“Shame. I thought he was gone for good,” Draco rolled his eyes at Potter’s dramatics.

The judges took their time, talking quietly amongst each other. Dumbledore even called over a mermaid to get a full account of everything that had taken place under the water. After a while, Ludo Bagman announced the standings. Delacour with 25 points; Diggory 47 points; Krum 40 points. Potter returned last, but due to the mermaid report, arrived at the hostages first, and was delayed by his determination to free all of them. Harry was awarded 45 points, placing him second place, much to Durmstrang’s irritation.

They were then told the next task wasn’t until late June, giving them plenty of time to wait, and then sent them back to the school.

“That’s it?” Draco scoffed, following the crowd back up to Hogwarts. “We waited by the lake for an hour for nothing?”

“Would’ve thought Dumbledore of all people would’ve had more design flair,” Ron said.

“Let’s just hope the last task is more eventful.”

~~~

“Bloody hell, another task where we can’t see anything?” Ron exclaimed.

Not bothering to reply, Draco slid down in his seat, fed up already.

“Hey, at least I brought snacks this time,” Ron pulled out his collection of sweets from his pockets. “Want some?”

Draco sourly took a Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, muttering out a thanks. Ron started on his humble supply, hoping the food would keep him awake for this task while they waited.

The bushes ruffled occasionally in the breeze and time passed as slowly as it had for the second task, the only rare excitement being when Krum and Delacour’s bodies were retrieved from the maze.

That was until Potter and Diggory finally returned in a strong burst of magic and a loud rush of air.

“He’s back, he’s back! Voldemort's back!” Potter sobbed.

A collective flinch went through the crowd at the sound of You-Know-Who’s name and curious spectators looked around in an attempt to find out what was going on. Cries and gasps echoed in the stadium as people caught a glimpse of Diggory’s lifeless body and Potter clinging to it desperately.

The teachers worked quickly to usher them away from the scene, all looking shaken, but no matter how far away they walked Ron could still hear Amos Diggory’s awful howls reverberating in his ears.

Draco looked as shaken as he felt, from the glances he had managed to sneak, pale and staring unseeingly ahead. Ron gently took his hand in his, trying to offer as much strength as he could.

Draco’s hand gripped his tightly back, unwilling to let go, though the rest of him gave no reaction.

They were all scared and confused, no one knew anything other than a boy was dead and Potter was calling bloody murder. Gossip and theories were spreading through the group, between the people who could stomach it so soon after what had happened.

No one was sure about what happened exactly but Ron knew from the crowd of pallid faces that nobody was sleeping easy tonight.

~FIFTH YEAR~

It had been a sullen holiday, to say the least. Ron spent more time than usual writing letters to Draco in his room, now even more reluctant to talk to his family after what had happened. Dinners had been silent and strained. Even Fred and George were quieter. Hogwarts was seemed to be even more of an escape than before, though he doubted the mood was much better there. The moment Potter had returned with Diggory’s body had replayed in his mind all break and he doubted the many others that had experienced it were doing much better.

As Ron and Draco sat on the Hogwarts Express on their way to their fifth year at the school, they spoke quietly about what had happened, about things too difficult to discuss in a handful of letters. They were huddled together on the seat, with the compartment blinds down to give them the illusion of privacy.

“Did you see it?” Ron murmured. “The body?”

Draco shook his head gravely. “Just an arm.”

“Do you think Potter was telling the truth? About You-Know-Who coming back?”

Draco paused, looking down at the floor. He’d been tense since the incident but Ron’s question seemed to make it even worse.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Ron breathed out heavily. With how Draco had been acting lately, the seriousness of his recent letters and now he was actually agreeing with Potter? Ron knew something was wrong.

“You can talk to me about anything, alright?” Ron asked, concerned. He knew his friend well enough to not press him, especially when he was like this. The anger he could handle, this quietness was worrying.

“I know,” Draco said, leaning his head on Ron’s shoulder. “Not now, later. When we’re somewhere more private.”

Ron took Draco’s hand in his, trying to offer him silent comfort. He wanted to press him further but as the train jolted he was reminded that this wasn't the place. The blinds may be closed but that did little to stop eavesdroppers.

Though Ron couldn’t ask Draco what was going on yet, he got lost in thought about what the explanation for Draco’s mood was. Noting the blonde’s out of character quietness, he knew the situation must be serious. What Potter had said about You-Know-Who being back, that couldn't be right. Could it?

The thought of Him returning was enough to set Ron on edge for the rest of the journey. He barely spoke another word while on the train and luckily Draco didn't seem eager to chat either. Instead, they sat in silence, both too preoccupied with their thoughts to make conversation.

~~~

“Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited.”

“...Thank you, Professor Umbridge. That really was most illuminating.” Dumbledore said after a slight pause.

Draco nudged Ron harshly as everyone started politely clapping.

“Hng, what?” Ron mumbled, snapping awake.

“She’s done,” Draco hissed.

“ _Finally_ ,” Ron muttered.

Dumbledore gave a few more notices before the food appeared, waking Ron up properly.

“She’s from the Ministry,” Draco commented while they started to fill their plates.

“Who?” Ron asked, already shovelling food into his mouth.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Umbridge,” at Ron’s blank stare he elaborated. “The woman who just gave the tedious speech.”

Ron made a sound of understanding, his mouth too full to reply properly.

“Father says the school board is concerned about safety,” Draco informed him. “About time they caught on.”

Ron took a large gulp of his pumpkin juice. “So a giant murdering snake is fine but now that someone is actually dead there's a problem?”

Draco nodded solemnly. “But anyway, that's why they've sent her. Odd choice for a DADA teacher but I've heard she's quite high up in the ministry.”

“I think she’ll be a good teacher. With all that pink we won't even need spells to scare off the dark arts.”

The rest of dinner was uneventful, most conversations about what everyone got up to during the holidays. It wasn’t long before they were on their way up to their dorm rooms, hurrying down the many stairs in anticipation.

Draco and Ron had prepared for bed quickly, eager to discuss Draco’s new information on what had happened to Cedric Diggory. They sat, huddled together, on the blonde’s bed, having already drawn the drapes around them and put in place the Silencing Charms.

“So, what’s up?” Ron asked.

Draco took a deep breath. “Father hasn’t said anything specific but something's wrong, I can tell. He’s been… quiet. But that's when he's home, he's been away even more than usual. ‘Business’, he says.”

“Do you think he’s somehow involved with what happened?” Ron asked hesitantly. Draco was defensive about his dad at the best of times.

Draco nodded sadly. “I asked mother but she was just as vague.”

Ron stayed silent, not sure how to respond, how to comfort him.

“I don't know what to think anymore,” Draco whispered. “Father always spoke so highly about the old days, the ones with the Dark Lord, but now he seems… scared.”

Ron offered his hand, which Draco took gratefully.

“And now, with the ministry interfering with the school? Something serious is going on and I have a feeling things are only going to get worse.”

It wasn't an unwarranted assertion, Ron had a sense of foreboding too. It was clear the ministry was worried, or they wouldn't have sent Umbridge, but Fudge had been adamant that everything was fine, that Potter was lying. After all, You-Know-Who had been gone for years, how likely would it be for him to just turn up again after all this time?

Assurances aside, anyone with a brain could see something was happening. A boy turns up dead, the other screaming it was Voldemort, the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, Barty Crouch Sr disappearing. None of it was what people might define as ‘fine’.

“Well, whatever happens, I’ll be there with you,” Ron squeezed Draco’s warm hand. “We’ll face it together.”

Ron was expecting a smile or some kind of thank you, not for Draco to launch himself at the redhead. Lips descended on him forcefully, as if he was trying to explain all his appreciation and emotions without words. Ron wrapped his arms around the blonde and pulled him on top of him fully, kissing back just as insistently.

They hadn’t done much beyond shy pecks and a brief but pleasant bit of feeling up since the Yule Ball. A student dying can really damper a sex drive. Even so, teenage hormones meant Ron was more than ready to try going further and luckily it seemed Draco was too.

“Thank you,” Draco murmured against Ron’s lips. He knew Draco found it difficult to show his gratitude and if this was how he decided to go about it there were no complaints here. Ron responded with what he hoped was a sound letting him know it was fine but it more likely came out as a moan.

They eventually calmed and slowed their kisses, until it was languid but deep, their tongues often softly brushing against one another’s. Ron stroked his hands up and down Draco’s waist, occasionally brushing the waistband of his pyjamas, while the blonde’s delicate hands combed through his hair.

Soon, Ron got the courage to slip his hands under the elastic band of Draco’s pyjama pants, teasing the skin just below the rise of his arse. It was smooth and warm and impossible to stop touching. Draco seemed to be enjoying it too, releasing small mewling noises and grinding gently, almost as if it was subconscious. Their legs had slotted together, letting them thrust up against each other with a rhythm that sped up as their fervour increased.

It couldn’t have been much longer than five minutes before they came, muffling their groans in each other's necks. No one’s ever claimed teenagers have good stamina.

As they came down from their high, they spoke softly to each other, cheeks still red, hands now unclenched.

“Did that help?” Ron grinned.

“Just a bit,” Draco smirked back.

~~~

“Are classes with Umbridge always going to be so tense?” Ron asked as they ambled out of DADA class, walking slowly to their next lesson.

“If you could call it that,” Draco huffed. “Reading from a first-year book isn't what I'd call a class. The only good part is when Potter starts arguing with her.”

“Yeah, and we don't even get to see the punishments. How would someone like Umbridge discipline a person?”

Draco shrugged. “Smother them in kittens, probably. Though I have seen some kind of marking on his hand, I can never get a good look though.

“It’s red, right? I just thought it was ink,” Ron said.

“Maybe,” Draco said. “Oh, have you heard about the club Umbridge is starting?”

“The Inquisition Squad?”

“Inquisitorial Squad.”

“Right. I have, why?”

“I was going to join,” Draco said. “You get extra credit apparently.”

“What do you have to do?” Ron asked.

“You’re basically a Prefect, you can take points, set detentions, have a later curfew.”

“But you're already a Prefect?”

“Yes but I also want to be on Umbridge’s good side,” Draco stated. “You’ve seen how she acts around Potter and Granger.”

Ron laughed at the memory. “She seems about ready to end them.”

“I wouldn’t stop her if she tried. You’ll be signing up with me, of course,” Draco said. “There’s no point of ruining Potter’s day if there’s no one to see it.”

Ron smiled. “‘Course.”

As they stepped out of the shelter of the school walls and into the crisp grass, a biting gust of wind blew straight towards them.

“Bugger, I hate Scottish weather,” Ron muttered, shivering already.

“Is Herbology really worth the walk?” Draco muttered grumpily. “Merlin, why can’t they just put the greenhouses inside? Ugh, if father wasn’t so set on me getting Es in all my exams I would’ve given up on Herbology ages ago.”

“My parents are more ‘if he passes we’re happy’,” Ron said. “Percy’s the smart one, they can pin all their expectations on him.”

“But you will try, right?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “‘Course. Speaking of which, can I borrow your notes from Charms? You always put things in a way I understand.”

“Alright...” Draco said slyly. “But only if you repay the favour.”

That tone only meant one thing. One very good thing.

“I’m sure I’ll find a way,” he smirked back.

Despite their heavy winter robes and various cold weather clothes, like house appropriate scarves and gloves, the icy air still scratched at their exposed skin. Huddling close, they hurried towards their class, impatient to enter the stuffy warmth of the greenhouses.

“Can Dumbledore actually keep Trelawney here?” Ron asked, making idle conversation.

“Not sure,” Draco said, pulling his robe around himself tighter. “Dumbledore always seems to do what he wants, either way. Umbridge did us a favour getting rid of her if you ask me.”

Ron snickered. “Aw, what, you won't miss her barmy nonsense about star alignments and tea leaves?”

“A tragic loss but I’ll somehow survive.”

~~~

Draco sat uncomfortably next to Ron in their dorm room. Ron had just returned from St Mungo’s after a hearing about the attack on his father and despite the news that he would make a full recovery, Ron couldn’t help but be plagued with worries.

“Um, is he alright?” Draco asked quietly.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

“Well, that's good!” Draco attempted as much cheerfulness as he could.

The atmosphere was tense, to say the least. Ron knew Draco was rubbish when he was around sad people so he couldn't judge him too harshly on his awkward behaviour.

“It’s just, while I was home,” Ron frowned. “Mum kept going off to places, even with dad, when he could… but I dunno, it was like they were avoiding me.”

“Did you ask them where they were going?”

“Yeah, and they kept saying they were going shopping. I tried to listen out for the Floo but they apparitated instead. Mum hates apparition.”

“Weird,” Draco murmured.

Ron hummed in agreement. He had considered the thought that he was overthinking, it wasn't unlike him to worry about people avoiding him after all, but he was sure something was going on. The way they’d been creeping about him screamed suspicious.

“Father's been like that as well,” Draco said. “Sneaking off. Usually at night, though.”

“Something's happening. Something they don't want us to know about.”

“Do you…” Draco whispered. “You don't think there'll be a war, do you?”

“A war? That's a bit of a jump.” Ron scoffed.

Draco shook his head. “People aren't happy, the creeping around, Diggory’s ‘accidental death, the ministry’s vehement denial of the Dark Lord’s return? What's next, Ron?”

Draco’s words were like a slap in the face. While Ron had been worried, he hadn’t thought it would come close to that. What would happen if one broke out, though? What would happen to him? To Draco?

As if reading his mind, Draco spoke. “We’d have to pick sides. And… I don't know if we'd be on the same one.”

It was something that needed a lot of thought, the side he’d be on. While he’d always join in on making fun of muggles and mudbloods could he actually kill one? Torture one for the cause? Honestly, probably, if it came down to it. That doesn’t mean he’d want to, they seemed harmless for the most part, with either little or no magic to help them but Ron had never felt the resentment Draco or his father had felt towards them. Though, if he chose the light side, he’d have to fight Death Eaters. Ron was sure they’d be much less laid back about it. Not to mention, he’d have to leave behind his friends, the only family he’d felt truly apart of and Draco. What would he have left? A household of people who didn’t fully trust him, who barely knew him. Even so, Ron couldn’t help the sick feeling he felt at the thought of completely turning his back on them.

“Well, we’re not there yet,” Ron said quietly. “But who knows? We just might.”

~~~

Ron was certain there was something going on with Potter. Not just Potter but all his Gryffindor friends, even that Ravenclaw girl seemed to be trailing them around the school. They’d make their way to the seventh-floor corridor, turn a corner and disappear. He’d let his fellow Inquisitorial Squad members know about this odd occurrence and after persistently bringing it up they’d eventually humoured him a started to look out for it too. Soon after, they reported similar instances of vanishing students. But no matter how many people they had watching out for them, they always seemed to sneak past them, like they were walking through the very walls. They could even invade Mrs Norris’ talented senses, which irritated Filch to no end.

Even so, it was only so long until they made a mistake.

Umbridge wasn’t an incredibly threatening figure at first glance but Ron soon found out from watching a sobbing Marietta Edgecombe that she could be frightening if she wanted.

The girl had cracked sooner than they’d expected, you’d think Potter would've bred some resilience in them but no. After only a few minutes of questioning, maybe a subtle threat or two, she broke down in tears and spilt everything she knew about ‘Dumbledore’s Army’.

The perpetrators involved in the club were unsurprising. Potter, Granger, Longbottom and most of their other friends from Gryffindor. When he’d caught Ginny’s eyes she glared defiantly back, a mixture of daring and anger swirling in the blue. Similar scowls came from his older brothers, Fred and George, one of them going as far as to bump into him as they were taken to detention.

It didn’t feel good, having his siblings hate him, but they did break an educational decree (which they were lucky to not be expelled for). It only further cemented his bond with Draco, as it seemed not only were his family uninterested in him but also actively pushing him away.

Speaking of Draco, well, he seemed more than happy to cheer him up, taking full advantage of their ability to stay out past curfew to show him the full use of the Room of Requirement. Ron could happily say, as Draco pushed him against the wall and kneeled down in front of him, that not a single thought of his family entered his mind that night.

~~~

_Tick. Tock._

The large historic clock and the scribbling of quills were the only sounds that broke the silence in the Great Hall. A cough or sniff every now and again reminded Ron of the numerous students around him, all completing their OWLs examination.

_Bang._

A loud noise sounded from outside the Great Hall. Some students turned their heads to check if anything interesting was happening, including Ron who was happy for any kind of distraction from his DADA paper but after a few moments of silence they hunched back over their exam paper and tried to focus.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock -_

Until it happened again. This time the noise was partnered with fizzing and whining, it seemed louder this time as if it were closer. Soon enough students were disturbed from their tests that Umbridge was forced to go inspect it, walking as quickly to the door as quick as her frumpy shoes would allow.

It was only a few tense seconds after she strode past the Great Halls doors that a burst of colour and sound erupted throughout the room. Whooping from two redhead boys echoed around the wide space as they flew in on their broomsticks, fireworks of all colours following close behind.

The reaction was immediate. Students quickly forgot their tests in favour of cheering on the twins, thankful for the disruption. People were hollering their encouragements and running to follow the pair who were swooping back out the hall. Even Ron was tempted to follow but he knew he wasn't welcome. Considering the giant pyrotechnic roaring lion growling and sizzling at him and his fellow Slytherins, effectively blocking them from the rallying crowd of students, it was a clear sign not to join in. Crabbe had apparently already got too close, seeing as his eyebrows were smoking.

Ron later found out it was Fred and George’s extravagant way of saying they were dropping out of school. He admired their bravery considering they were going to get a scolding from just about everyone, though mum was the one to worry about. She could strike fear into You-Know-Who himself.

~~~

How stupid could they get? What were they expecting, walking right into Umbridge’s office? A friendly hug?

He and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad members held Potter’s friends tightly as Umbridge questioned him. Granger was struggling in his grip so he pressed his wand harshly into her neck, a silent threat. It was clear Potter wasn't going to say anything, even as the bordering on unhinged woman attempted to get him to speak through violence, even threatening the Cruciatus Curse, after being told they were out of Veritaserum.

Ron couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief as Granger finally squeaked out “Tell her, Harry!” It had all gotten quite unpleasant to watch.

“Tell me what?” Umbridge squawked, grasping her wand tightly.

After silence from Potter, Granger spoke shakily again. “Well, if you won't tell her where it is… I will.”

“Where what is?”

“Dumbledore's secret weapon.”

That seemed to get through the crazed fog in Umbridge’s mind and it took seconds for her to order him and the Squad to keep watch of the others contained and force Potter and Granger out the door.

“Woof,” Ron breathed, his hands feeling empty now he didn't have to hold Granger still anymore. “That was intense.”

Draco released Longbottom quickly, wiping his hands on his robes. The other members followed suit, not bothering to guard the last three DA members now that Umbridge wasn't watching.

“So, now we just wait?” Draco complained, plopping down in the chair Potter had just vacated.

“Guess so,” Ron shrugged. He kept glancing at Ginny, even as he walked over to the blonde, knowing if anyone was going to try something, it would be her. “I reckon she's lost it.”

“That wasn't exactly the behaviour of a sane person,” Draco agreed.

A rustling from Ginny stopped their conversation and they all turned to look at her.

“What’ve you got in your pocket?” Gregory asked her.

She gave a surprised look as if she hadn't expected anyone to hear her.

“Oh, just sweets.”

“Put them on the table,” Vincent ordered.

Ginny did so hesitantly, leaving the packet in front of them.

Ron knew them instantly. As if he hadn't seen them enough around the school, Fred and George had been insistent on testing their Puking Pastels out on him as often as possible, often without his knowledge. He felt a conditioned gag start at the sight of them but held it down.

Gregory and Vincent dived for them instantly. Ron caught his sister's eyes and gave her a knowing look. They might not be close but he was still concerned about her safety. Since they’d been determined enough to use the floo that they’d broken into Umbridge’s office he figured he’d trust his sister's instincts on this one.

Draco went to reach for one and Ron kicked him harshly in the shin.

“OW! What the fuck?”

“Sorry, leg twitched.” He gave Draco a hard stare, trying to talk to him non-verbally.

Draco frowned but kept his hands to himself.

It wasn’t long before the effects of the sweets went into action, neither boy sparing a goodbye as they rushed out the room, holding back their vomit.

The three students jumped into battle, flourishing their wands at Draco and Ron. The redhead barely bothered, shooting a few weak Expelliarmus towards Loony so that it looked like he was trying. In a silent thank you, Ginny went easy on Draco with her Bat-Bogey Hex. Despite his dramatic yelling, Ron knew Ginny could’ve done a lot worse. While Ron went to help Draco, the trio ran out quickly, probably expecting to be chased.

“Finite,” Ron mumbled, grabbing Draco’s shoulders to keep him still.

The flow of bats soon dissipated but Draco’s whimpers continued. “T-They escaped!”

“It’s fine.” Ron shushed him.

Draco felt his nose, making sure it was okay. “Umbridge is going to kill us.”

“Maybe,” Ron nodded.

They weren't killed, luckily. Umbridge was too busy being kidnapped by centaurs to worry about them letting some insignificant children go. By the time she had been rescued lessons had been cancelled for the day, a smart choice considering a teacher had been captured and You-Know-Who was breaking into the ministry at that very moment.

It had all been rather funny until they'd found out about Draco’s father being arrested.

The first sign that something was wrong was the letter Draco received requesting him to come to the Headmaster's office. It was late, about seven, the sky was dark and the air was crisp. A letter at a time like that never meant anything good.

It was suspiciously vague and Draco quickly hurried off to find out what was going on. It crossed Ron’s mind that it might be about what had happened earlier. Were they in trouble? No, then they would have both been sent for. But what then?

When Ron went to bed he found himself sleeping restlessly, his mind wide awake with possibilities of what could be happening.

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point as he woke to Draco shaking him roughly.

“Wake up!” He hissed. “Ron… _please_.”

Ron came to full awareness hearing the emotion in his voice, sitting up and taking a proper look at the blonde. Worry clutched at his heart as he took in his dishevelled appearance, shadowed eyes and more pale than normal. It was obviously quite late at night, by the snoring of his roommates and the sleepiness in Draco’s eyes.

“What happened?”

The question seemed to open the floodgates and Draco hid his face in Ron’s shoulder, letting out small sobs.

There was a pause where Ron didn’t know how to react before encircling him with his arms and pulling him close. For all his dramatics, Draco rarely properly cried in front of him and seeing him break down was always staggering.

“H-He’s been taken,” Draco hiccupped. “They arrested him.”

“What?” Ron asked. “Who? Draco, breathe!”

Gulping in a long breath, Draco stuttered out an explanation.

“My f-father. He and some others b-broke into the ministry,” Draco whimpered. “That’s all they’d tell me.”

Ron held him tighter. He had so many questions but he knew Draco held no answers.

“Did you know anything about it? That he was going to do it?” Ron settled on.

Draco shook his head slightly.

Good. At least he knew Draco couldn’t be prosecuted for withholding information.

Ron held the blonde securely, trying to be strong for the both of them. If what had happened already throughout the year wasn’t sign enough, this was a slap in the face that something was on its way, whether they wanted it to or not. As the summer holiday quickly approached Ron felt an intense feeling of foreboding, not for the first time but stronger than ever before. This was from more than just apprehension of tense family meals, this was the fear of what was going to come. Choosing sides. You-Know-Who. War.

~SIXTH YEAR~

_Ron,_

_I hope your summer is going well. I'm sorry to say that you can't visit me during the holiday, nor I you, due family arrangements. Owls will be scarce from me as well, because of said reason._

_Bad news aside, life has been uneventful here anyways. You won't be missing much. I am excited to see you when we return to Hogwarts._

_Apologies for such a short letter,_

_Draco_

Draco’s letter telling him he wasn’t allowed to come to his house left Ron in a constant state of anxiety. He had been hesitant enough to let go of the blonde at the station as they’d hugged goodbye, looking back at it now he can’t help but wish he’d dragged him home to the Burrow. The letter hadn’t only been vague but reserved, withholding a months worth of updates in a few lines of cold, cursive script. He had considered the idea that Draco had simply lost interest in him and this was his polite way of telling him to bugger off but he tried to keep that nagging idea at the back of his mind, knowing how unlikely it was.

He’d heard about the breakout from Azkaban, the way the newspapers were broadcasting it everywhere it was hard to miss. It meant that not only was You-Know-Who was on the loose but so were his most loyal followers. Including Lucius Malfoy.

The school year couldn’t start soon enough, in Ron’s opinion. The concern had been driving him crazy. He wasn’t even safe in his dreams, haunted by screams and snake-like men, unable to escape them.

Now, he sat in the train compartment, jiggling his leg unconsciously, eyes flicking to the door every few moments.

Draco entered finally just as the train began to move but Ron had to take a moment to recognise him. To anybody else he would’ve looked familiar enough, there was nothing out of the ordinary with him. But Ron wasn’t just anybody. He was Draco’s best friend - his boyfriend. Without even opening his mouth, Ron could tell something was wrong. Though he’d always been pale, his skin had now taken on a grey tinge, now matching his eyes which seemed as lifeless as his walk, as if he were marching to his death. His hair was styled as normal but it lacked it’s usual shine, along with his movements which were stilted and slow opposed to his usual upbeat stride. What cut into Ron’s heart was the tiny half smile Draco attempted to give him. There was no real joy there, it was as weary as the rest of him and was what really showed the distress he’d been through over the summer.

Unable to find any words, Ron gathered the blonde into his arms. They stood there holding each other, neither needing to speak, letting the hug say everything they needed to.

As they separated Draco shut the compartment door and asked with forced cheeriness how his summer went.

“Seriously? You’re going to ask about my summer?” Ron spluttered. “With those letters you sent, I thought the end of the world was happening.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “They were simply well-mannered but I don’t expect you to know anything about that. Nothing’s happened. Really.”

“I’m not that stupid, Draco,” Ron said seriously. “I know you and I know when something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

“I can’t, okay?” Draco hissed suddenly, his happy facade dropping instantly. “It’s not safe.”

That statement only worried Ron further and he frowned. He went over and shut the door which must’ve slid open as the train bumped along the track before sitting down heavily.

“I’ll drop it for now but we are talking about this,” he stated.

Draco sighed heavily. “Ron, ple-”

“No. This isn’t about a fucking crush or that you forgot to do your homework, this is serious stuff. I need to know you’re safe.”

It was clear Draco didn’t want to relent but he knew Ron could be incredibly stubborn if he wanted.

“Fine,” he spat. “But leave it, for now, you never know who’s listening in.”

~~~

Ron did as he was asked but barely. It took a lot of effort to not start bombarding Draco with the many questions he had been storing throughout the holidays. Even when the food appeared at dinner he could hardly muster the willpower to eat it, it all tasting bland and flavourless to him anyway. Draco was acting normal, maybe a little more irritable than usual but nothing anyone would consider strange. Even so, he seemed particularly uninterested in the food too, only poking it occasionally with his fork.

“Shouldn't have had so many sweets on the train, huh, Draco?” Ron asked, nudging him.

“What?” Draco frowned in confused before Ron gave him a pointed look. “Oh, yeah. I still feel sick from all those Chocolate Frogs.”

“Same,” Ron lied. “How about we head to the common room? I know I can’t eat anymore.”

Draco seemed to have finally cottoned on to Ron’s plan and agreed to go with him.

“See you soon,” Gregory called distractedly between bites, evoking a few other goodbyes.

Draco gave a small wave but said nothing, walking out the hall with Ron at his side.

The stroll there was tense and few words were said between them. They both knew what awaited once they got to their room.

When they reached it there was a pregnant pause after they had cast their locking and silencing charms. Ron gave Draco a hard look until he relented.

“There are people - my home is…” Draco tried. “Ugh, nevermind delicacy. The Dark Lord and several Death Eaters have taken residence in my house.”

Of all the awful things Ron was expecting that hadn’t been one of them.

That explained why he hadn’t been allowed round and Draco’s distance in his letters. Ron mentally chastised himself for his brief thought that Draco didn’t like him anymore.

“Is everyone alright?”

“Mother’s quite flustered by the whole thing but she’s mainly just happy to have my father back.”

“And how’s he doing?” Ron asked, hesitantly.

Draco shrugged, face blank. “I haven’t seen him much since he got home, he’s still recovering, but he’s so quiet. Sometimes it’s like he’s not even there like they really did suck out his soul.”

“He’ll get better,” Ron said confidently. Lucius had always been frustratingly resilient, just ask Ron’s father, so he had no worries that he would come back to himself.

“There’s more,” Draco said quietly. “I’ve been tasked with the assassination of Dumbledore.”

It was almost like a train was howling in his ear, he couldn’t hear anything, he could barely hear his own thoughts. He stared at his friend in shock who looked as horrified as he felt. Apparently saying out loud made it so much more real. There was nothing he could think to say and yet wanted to say so much. He wanted to scream and shake him but hug and comfort him too. So he did nothing, instead just sitting and staring blankly at the wall behind Draco’s head.

“I can’t do it, Ron,” Draco’s voice cracked. “I keep thinking of ways but I can't.”

He couldn’t imagine Draco doing it either. The blonde was notoriously squeamish, he couldn't handle killing spiders let alone a human.

“You could,” Ron started. “Go to Dumbledore?”

“And say what?” Draco snapped. “Hello Headmaster, I hope your day's going well. Oh, by the way, I’ve been ordered to kill you!”

Ron knew it was pointless arguing with him in this state.

“Well, whatever you decide, I’m here for you.”

Draco looked up at him in shock.

“That's a big claim to make. Are you sure?” Draco said, sitting tensely.

Ron nodded solemnly.

Abruptly, they could hear their roommate’s heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs. In his state, Ron could barely distinguish it from his pounding heartbeat.

Draco rushed to him and grasped his hands tightly, staring intensely, almost madly into his eyes.

“Promise you’ll help me,” he whispered desperately. “Promise.”

It only took a moment of hesitation before Ron breathed out a heavy, “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> **This work is part of an ongoing fest.**
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> Please feel free to leave love/comments for the author either here, [on LJ](https://ron-draco-fest.livejournal.com/), or [DW](https://ron-draco-fest.dreamwidth.org/).


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